rich was playing music all day while i struggled somewhat with the kids to listen, be nice, do homework and chores. we went to check out the southern end of sunday streets, which the map indicated was mariposa. we parked in some weeds and were treated to a beautiful and somewhat end of the world scene. no cars allowed, but very few people straying to walk on this piece of concrete by the bay. music provided by a small band of brass and string musicians, camped out happily on a broken concrete picnic table. one man played an instrument that was part trumpet, part violin, from transylvania. strange hulks of mission bay architecture to the west, wierd pilings in the water, fantastic clouds stretching to oaktown. a man fished fruitlessly from a short dock and a homeless man sat on a piece of concrete behind barbed wire and danger signs, contemplating the water. we saw a long-necked bird dive under the water for seconds on end, and pigeons having a party. puddles everywhere filled with strange shapes and weeds and garbage. a few kids biked through the puddles and sped away. a few folks walked their dogs. it was a good sunny hour, even with the kids whining and falling down. things are perfect and then they get ruined and then they start to get perfect again, right? this landscape will survive us, i am sure. miles put his toes in the bay and maya made plans to go home and pretend we were a family of deer with a bluebird friend.
rich was playing music all day while i struggled somewhat with the kids to listen, be nice, do homework and chores. we went to check out the southern end of sunday streets, which the map indicated was mariposa. we parked in some weeds and were treated to a beautiful and somewhat end of the world scene. no cars allowed, but very few people straying to walk on this piece of concrete by the bay. music provided by a small band of brass and string musicians, camped out happily on a broken concrete picnic table. one man played an instrument that was part trumpet, part violin, from transylvania. strange hulks of mission bay architecture to the west, wierd pilings in the water, fantastic clouds stretching to oaktown. a man fished fruitlessly from a short dock and a homeless man sat on a piece of concrete behind barbed wire and danger signs, contemplating the water. we saw a long-necked bird dive under the water for seconds on end, and pigeons having a party. puddles everywhere filled with strange shapes and weeds and garbage. a few kids biked through the puddles and sped away. a few folks walked their dogs. it was a good sunny hour, even with the kids whining and falling down. things are perfect and then they get ruined and then they start to get perfect again, right? this landscape will survive us, i am sure. miles put his toes in the bay and maya made plans to go home and pretend we were a family of deer with a bluebird friend.
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